


A Deal With The Devil

by jinkazama



Category: Tekken
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Crack, Implied Relationships, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:23:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2026665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkazama/pseuds/jinkazama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kazuya and Lee have a bet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Deal With The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> I had this posted on here before as Crakken. Originally I meant this to be composed of random pairings from the Tekken yaoi generator but...I couldn't be bothered after the first one. I still might come back to this, but for now, it's just this short fic.

The usual tournament post-registration party at the Mishima Compound was in full swing. It was a time-honoured tradition that took place the evening before the opening ceremony, and just as important was the unspoken tradition that everyone mixed peacefully. There were Tekken Force soldiers circulating, ensuring that the peace was kept. The doors shut at 8, and reopened at 12. Tradition meant to make sure everyone mingled. In practice, after a couple of hours of forced pleasantries, everyone soon got bored and started drinking heavily.

Lee Chaolan sighed into his glass, bored, as he watched the party from a distance. He’d registered as himself this year, but he was already getting a strange feeling about this tournament. The fifth tournament was being hosted not by Heihachi, who’d died in an explosion on Honmaru, but by his hated brother Kazuya. Kazuya had moved fast to claim the Zaibatsu in the wake of Heihachi’s death, and Lee gripped his glass tighter as he silently swore to take his brother down this time.

He felt cold all over, all of a sudden, and his soul felt as though it was screaming in agony.

“Kazuya.”

A gloved hand rested heavily on his arm for a moment. Behind him, Kazuya’s familiar warmth was only centimetres away. Lee refused to move away.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Chaolan. I must say,” the glove pulled at Lee’s mesh sleeve briefly, “I’m amazed you managed to find a gayer outfit than the one you chose last time.”

Lee bristled, and brushed the glove off.

Kazuya laughed quietly. He moved a little closer.

“What do you want, Kazuya? Come to taunt me?”

“Taunt you? I hardly need an excuse for that.”

“Indeed. Shouldn’t you be circling, entertaining your guests like Father used to?”

Kazuya stepped around him to get in his face. He was wearing his dark purple tuxedo, and his red eye flashed dangerously.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You claimed the Zaibatsu and are the host of this tournament, aren’t you?”

Kazuya looked troubled for a moment, and Lee felt confusion come over him. Was it possible?

“If not you…”

Kazuya still looked troubled, but he shrugged in irritation. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll beat them and claim it anyway.”

Lee laughed, he couldn’t help it. “Oh you will, will you?”

Kazuya smirked. “That’s right, I’ll reclaim everything that was mine.” His eyes ran up and down Lee’s body, showing clear approval of the tight outfit despite his jibes.

“It always was my favourite distraction at terrible parties here,” Lee murmured.

“Since we’re here and obviously suffering, let’s make it more fun the way we used to. Let’s have a bet.”

Lee smiled. It had been a long time since their last bet. Half a lifetime away.

“I’m listening.”

“I bet that you can’t seduce a guest and fuck them on the old man’s dining table.”

“What guest?”

“Nobody you’ve had before. I’ll be generous and not choose Ganryu.”

“And if I succeed?”

“If you succeed, I’ll come to your hotel room and fuck you senseless. If you fail…same thing.”

“Wouldn’t you do that anyway?”

“Don’t tell me you’re too old for this? You would have been done by now in the old days. Besides, I thought you were bored.”

“I should fuck Jin just for that ‘old’ remark.”

Kazuya’s eyes narrowed.

“I wouldn’t.”

Lee turned away and ran his eyes over the assembled guests. So many familiar faces, old and new. Some he’d had before, some he never wanted…and then a glimmer of bright hair caught his eye.

He turned back to Kazuya and smiled. Kazuya had evidently noticed who he’d picked out of the crowd and looked back at him, expressionless.

“So how are you going to verify this?”

“Easy. You do your part, I’ll take out the guards and make sure the dining room is accessible. Obviously I’ll have to watch to make sure you, ah, fulfil your end of the deal.”

“Obviously.”

Lee turned away again, and made his way across the room to Hwoarang.

Hwoarang was having a terrible evening. He slouched against a wall, beer in hand, bored to death. And now it looked like it was getting worse; Lee Chaolan of all people was headed his way with a sly smile on his face. Great.

They’d never spoken, but Hwoarang knew about him from Baek and between his mentor’s stories about the Mishima Zaibatsu and the infuriating arrogance that poured off Lee, Hwoarang was confident any interaction would be a complete waste of his time.

Lee Chaolan leaned his side against the wall, facing him, a little too close for Hwoarang’s liking. He frowned, and moved away. Lee smiled and sipped his drink. Hwoarang frowned as he realised Lee wasn’t going to take the hint.

“Can I help you with something?” Hwoarang said with rather more patience than he felt. There were Tekken Force soldiers everywhere, and even worse, Baek was somewhere in the room. He couldn’t afford to get physical here.

Lee offered his hand. “Just came to say hi. Lee Chaolan.”

“Hwoarang.”

“Nice hair.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re not one for talk, are you?”

“Not to the likes of you, no.”

“Yet my charming nephew seems to be a subject of some fascination for you, judging by the way you’ve been looking at him all evening.”

Lee was only bluffing, but Hwoarang’s eyes widened briefly. He was delightfully open with his emotions, Lee thought.

“This is a terrible party. I can’t believe even free alcohol can’t make it more interesting.”

“Agreed,” Hwoarang sighed. “I’ve had several beers and still nothing. There aren’t even any arguments. Most of these people are as dull as shit.”

“You’re telling me!”

“Well, both of us are bored. What a great conversation. Thanks for starting it.”

“There are better things to do together than be bored.”

Hwoarang started and looked at Lee sharply.

“I’m not –”

“Interested? Maybe you aren’t in me, but if you think you’re fooling anyone with the way you look at Jin you’re in for a shock.”

Hwoarang looked at him, utterly speechless.

“You’re not going to get a better offer tonight. So you can stay here looking at him longingly and drinking terrible beer, or you can…” Lee turned and walked away into the hall.

He pulled out a pack of menthol cigarettes from his pocket, lit one, and waited. Sure enough, a few moments later, Hwoarang followed him out there.

He moved right up to Lee, and hissed “Only because I’m bored.”

Kazuya had kept his word; the dining room was unguarded. Lee opened the door for both of them and Hwoarang pushed past him. Lee’s smile brightened.

Kazuya was hidden somewhere, so he decided against turning the main light on, opting for a couple of lamps. No point in spooking Hwoarang if he hadn’t hidden well enough.

Hwoarang turned and faced him, hands on hips, looking vaguely exasperated.

Lee was on him in a second, pushing him back onto the table. Hwoarang was already hard, despite his aggressive demeanour, and Lee rubbed him through his jeans, enjoying the way Hwoarang pressed against him eagerly.

They broke away, and Lee gestured at Hwoarang’s jeans.

“You’d better take those off, I haven’t the slightest fucking idea.”

He pulled his own clothes off, conscious that Kazuya was watching somewhere, excited by the thought. Removing a tube of lubricant from his leather vest, he quickly warmed a little in his hand and prepared a couple of fingers.

“Get on the table.”

Hwoarang obliged, now fully naked. Lee’s eyes took in his tall, muscular frame and his smile deepened.

It was fortunate Kazuya had allowed him to choose.

Lee clambered up onto the table, conscious of how smooth the dark wood felt against his skin. Kazuya had fucked him on here, a million years ago, and the surface could get rather slippy so they’d have to be quick.

He fingered Hwoarang with one hand, as he squeezed his cock with the other, and enjoyed the moans Hwoarang was unable to hold back. He was tight and hot, and he responded eagerly to Lee’s touches.

Soon he was ready, and Lee slid into that tight heat slowly, watching Hwoarang’s face as he did. The younger man lay beneath him, red hair bright against the dark wood, and as Lee slid in and waited for him to adjust, he bit his full lower lip to avoid crying out.

Jin Kazama had no taste, Lee surmised.

When Hwoarang looked suitably relaxed, he began fucking him, slowly at first, and then rolling his hips sharply as he grew more used to the feel of the younger man. Hwoarang’s hands gripped Lee’s muscular thighs and he arched up as Lee fucked him, clearly wanting it harder. Lee was never one to ignore a polite request like that, and he smiled darkly as he thrust sharply into Hwoarang, knocking the breath out of him, and the way Hwoarang’s cock hardened in his hand told him everything he needed to know.

He leaned over the younger man, as much for Kazuya as for himself, and increased his pace. Hwoarang couldn’t hold out from the sustained pressure; he bit deeply into his forearm to mask his groans. Lee came imagining Kazuya watching, enjoying the sensation of that tight heat and the strong young man under him, completely undone, gasping in pleasure.

He waited a moment to recover before pulling out, absently running a hand through his damp silver hair. Hwoarang pulled himself up, shook his hair out, smiled slightly.

“Definitely not boring.”

“Oh please, there’s no need to flatter me.”

Lee was tugging on his clothes, patting through his pockets for his lighter, cigarette hanging from his mouth when Hwoarang tapped him on the shoulder. He plucked the cigarette from Lee’s lips and kissed him roughly on the mouth, before breaking the kiss and offering his own lighter.

“Seemed like the least I could do,” he smirked. Lee regarded him coolly. Jin had no taste. Absolutely none at all.

“Good luck in the tournament,” he managed.

“Won’t need it,” Hwoarang smiled, confident as ever, “but I appreciate the sentiment.”

He finished doing up his chaps and then he was gone, without another word.

Lee leaned back against the table and waited.

Sure enough, a moment later he heard the scrape of wood against floor, and caught the scent of Kazuya’s aftershave; something hot and dark with amber and hints of incense.

“Well done.”

“You should never bet against me. I always win. Especially this kind of contest.”

“I knew you would. I just wanted to see if you were as keen to please me as ever. It’s good to know there are still some things that are mine.”

Lee exhaled directly into Kazuya’s face. “Only if I’m getting something out of it too.”

Kazuya touched his damp silver hair briefly. “What room are you in?”

“308.”

“I’ll see you there.” He stroked a stray strand back into place, and left Lee alone.

Lee checked his watch. Fifteen minutes til this dreadful party ended; he was sure he could find some amusement to occupy himself until then. He was looking forward to collecting his winnings.


End file.
